Emor: defectives

Emor: defectives

Emor begins with disqualification from the sacrificial rite. Aaron, Moshe’s brother, and his descendants were chosen to be Cohanim, the clan that could perform the Temple service. Cohanim are forbidden contact with the dead (presumably to mourn them.) For ordinary Cohanim, close relatives, that are universally mourned, are exempted from the restriction. The kohen gadol, the High Priest ,has no exceptions. No matter how close the relative, the Cohen Gadol must remain  pure and avoid exposure to the  corpse tumah. The elevated status of the Cohen limits his life in significant ways:  the price of privilege.

The parsha becomes more cringy when it talks about the physical defects that disqualify a Cohen from performing the service. He cannot be blind, or lame or have an eye disease, etc. Now, there appears to be a conflict between the Enlightenment and Torah. Western culture has taught me to celebrate the triumphs of the disabled. The Torah disqualifies them from the Temple service.

I immediately imagine the blind, lame Cohen who, through simulations and extensive practice, knows just where to place the bowl to collect the sacrificial blood; places that blood in exactly the correct positions on the altar; waves the appropriate parts of the sacrificed animal; places the proper pieces on the burning altar and walks off to the appreciative applause of the Temple attendees.

Maybe I imagine this all wrong. I want the Torah to make sense to my contemporary self and show sympathy for the victim of Nature’s caprice. I do not want the Torah to offend my modern sensibilities. I confront the challenge of bringing these vectors into alignment.

The death of Aaron’s eldest sons, Nadav and Avihu, has demonstrated the danger of flawed Temple service. Perhaps the “disqualification”  of the flawed priest is really an exemption from the draft. The service would be too dangerous for a priest with a broken arm or impaired vision. That approach to the issue is an easy out.

More likely, the involvement of a priest with a disability would shift the focus of the service to the struggles of the challenged individual. The service would change from spectacle to human drama.  The intention of the author would be lost in sentimentality.

Having a disabled person perform the rite would display the cruelty of a Nature ruled by the One Gd. The sacrificial rite inherently includes a plea for Divine mercy and generosity. The performance of that rite by someone who had been deprived of some element of that goodness would lead to questions. Actually, the mention of the disqualification of the disabled in the parsha leads to those questions, perhaps in a more appropriate context.

 

The disqualification of flawed animals from the sacrificial rite is easier to accept. The altar cannot become a dump for unfit animals. On a deeper level, the demand for high quality livestock echoes the sacrifices of Abel and Cain.  Abel brought:” the choicest of the firstlings of his flock” and  Gd paid heed to Abel’s offerings. Cain, who brought less than the best, did not merit Gd’s attention. The consequence of this envy is the story of the first murder.  The wisdom of providing high quality has unforeseen consequences.

The requirement that sacrificial animals be unblemished is central to the story of the destruction of the second temple ( Gittin 56a):

The emperor went and sent with him (bar Kamtza) a choice three-year-old calf. While bar Kamtza was coming with the calf to the Temple, he made a blemish on the calf’s upper lip. And some say he made the blemish on its eyelids, a place where according to us, i.e., halakha, it is a blemish, but according to them, gentile rules for their offerings, it is not a blemish.

The blemish notwithstanding, the Sages thought to sacrifice the animal as an offering due to the imperative to maintain peace with the government. Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkolas said to them: If the priests do that, people will say that blemished animals may be sacrificed as offerings on the altar. The Sages said: If we do not sacrifice it, then we must prevent bar Kamtza from reporting this to the emperor. The Sages thought to kill him so that he would not go and speak against them. Rabbi Zekharya said to them: If you kill him, people will say that one who makes a blemish on sacrificial animals is to be killed.

Rabbi Yoḥanan says: The excessive humility of Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkolas destroyed our Temple, burned our Sanctuary, and exiled us from our land.

Was this story a prophetic vision of our parsha?

It is people who put the devil in the details.